One of life’s sweet pleasures is to take a tour of a garden with green fingered friends; to celebrate little triumphs and to bemoan failures. A sharing and seeking of advice, a chance to vent, lament and most of all an opportunity to learn.
I shared many of these walks with Lizzie both in her garden and in ours, an intuitive and knowledgeable plantswoman who had magic oozing out of her fingers. Like us she toiled to turn a field into a garden. In hardly any time at all her garden flourished with softly shaped beds that flowed and melted into each other, add to this a meandering path that teased and deceived and the whole experience of walking her garden was mesmerising. A garden given to natural planting that at first glance looked simplistic but on digging deeper (pardon the pun) the skill and pure genius of the lady was evident.
Nature and wildlife were at the core of this garden and therein lay its charm, if a plant sited itself in a spot that was not quite aesthetically pleasing or horticulturally sound Liz’s philosophy was ‘if it thrives let it survive’. She rarely bought a plant (unless, that is, from the bargain corner and that was more of a rescue mission), she relied on seeds, cuttings and the occasional donation from other gardens. In such a short time she managed to weave a masterpiece of colour, scent and texture.
Sadly, tragically like its designer this garden did not reach its full potential, like its creator it disappeared before its time. But we are blessed to have known Lizzie and to have experienced her garden.
Today, there is hardly any indication of the brilliance that once was and it pains me that the same fate may befall our garden. I hope that this blog will help to map and record its journey.
I would also welcome your comments, advice and questions.
Bara, pridd a Prosecco 